Still Life for Buddy Holly

 

September still-lifes the birch grove

 

My nose points blank

 

My eyes smell old

 

My mouth is a cave-full of time

 

My ears; stereophonic whispers & silent crickets,

body wholly unheard of;

 

a below that never ends





Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2024-09-07 at 15:13

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